Mishaps and moon beams
by OtterAndTerrier
Summary: Commission for urbanmama1. Ron decides to take Hermione to their first official date. It had to be perfect-but it's not.


I wrote this as a commission for **urbanmama1 **at LiveJournal, in exchange for a donation to **Beat Bullying**. First fic posted in 2011!

Writing Ron and Hermione's first real date was very fun; I actually had had this idea for a while, and this was a good chance to make it happen. Guess they didn't expect their date to be packed with such mishaps!

The last part of this comes from a 100 words drabble I wrote for the **rhr100** community, it'd be like an extension.

Thanks to **wordsmithsonian **for the beta work!

Enjoy, and reviews are love.

Dessi

* * *

**Mishaps and moon beams**

The look in the two pairs of eyes the same colour as hers didn't make her any more comfortable; the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter every second.

'Hermione,' her father started, in an attempt to break the silent expectation, but his wife squeezed his arm softly, as if to make him think twice before saying anything.

'Darling, is it anything bad? Has something happened to you on that... journey that you haven't told us about yet?' Mrs. Granger asked carefully.

'No, Mum,' Hermione hurried to add. Ever since she had told them everything, answering all the questions that they could think of, she felt as if her parents were still somewhat resentful toward her, wondering if she might be hiding something else.

'All right, I'll tell you before you think it's something serious... Well, it is serious, but not in that sense... The reason I feel nervous is because I kept quiet about this until now, but I promise it's nothing to worry about—'

'Come on, Hermione,' her mother prompted her.

Hermione took a deep breath.

'I've been... seeing somebody, for a while now, and tonight is actually our... um, official first date.'

Her parents looked puzzled for a few seconds, startling her moments later with a string of questions: 'What do you mean by "seeing somebody"? How long is "a while"? Who is he?'

Her mother suddenly said, 'Is it—Ronald, right?'

'Yes.'

If Hermione's face were any hotter, it would have evaporated.

'Have you been together all this time?' her father asked, surveying her with a light scowl. She could see what kind of thoughts must have been running through his head; his next question confirmed it. 'During your... journey, I mean?'

'No! No, we weren't together back then,' she said firmly. 'We sort of... figured it out later, and we've been... ah, seeing each other ever since. I should have told you.'

'That's why you spend so much time at his home, right?' Mrs. Granger asked. Hermione nodded.

'I'm telling you this because... I haven't been fair enough with you all these years. I've told you so much and yet so little of my life in the wizarding world... I'm sorry.'

'There's nothing we can reproach you for, Hermione,' her father said quietly.

'You don't take the blame for anything.' Mrs. Granger stood up and hugged Hermione. 'And I'd like to get to know him better, if that's possible.'

She broke the hug and took her daughter's hands instead.

'I've known it was him for some time, you know. Well, before everything happened, of course. Even when you didn't tell me much...'

Hermione felt guilty again, but didn't say anything. Maybe her mother, in spite of her silences, her absences and her half truths, had noticed all the little things that Hermione had omitted to herself.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

'He should be here any minute now.'

She looked at her parents with a half relieved, half apprehensive expression.

'You want to... talk to him?'

Somebody knocked on the back door before any of them could decide whether they should sit and talk to Ron right away or not. Hermione gave a last glance toward her parents before running to answer.

* * *

Ron had been standing in front of Hermione's door just long enough to consider whether to keep holding out the white lily or get rid of it. He could not make a decision, before she opened the door breathlessly.

He thought she looked effortlessly pretty, even when it was obvious she had put all of her effort into not appearing too over-dressed. Her hair was pleasantly curled and clipped back and she was bearing an intense blush as she took the flower he hadn't been able to hide.

'Thank you, Ron. Come in.'

She gave a shy smile, encouraging him to enter, and led him to the living room, where Mr. and Mrs. Granger were waiting.

After a polite exchange of greetings, Hermione announced they had a reservation and, therefore, should leave.

* * *

As soon as they Apparated into the little backyard outside The Leaky Cauldron, Ron squeezed Hermione's hand, wrapped around his, and grinned. He had the most urgent need to kiss her. _Timing_, he remembered. It was too early for a first date, or for the first date he had planned. Of course, they had snogged more times than he could count—although he secretly kept track of that—but this was different. It had taken him some courage to ask: after all, a date was a turning point. He didn't want her to go to Hogwarts, away from him, without showing her how important she was to him.

They didn't talk until they started walking up the cobbled, crowded Diagon Alley, looking vaguely at the shops.

'I've never been here on a Saturday night before,' Ron commented. 'Didn't know how busy it could get.'

'There were several bars and restaurants here, most of them have reopened.'

'Still.' He frowned, unconvinced. 'I wouldn't have thought that people would feel like going out so soon.'

Hermione grimaced.

'You have to remember that not all the wizards and witches in England were in the battle, Ron,' she said softly. Hermione then cleared her throat and added, 'My parents... they didn't say much, but I think they like you.' She glanced sideways toward him.

The tips of his ears were visibly red under the lights of the street. His arm moved to wrap around her waist.

'I hope I can keep up the first impression.'

* * *

The restaurant, placed nearly in front of Gringott's, was small, neat, and pleasant, and there weren't many people.

'Don't you think we attract more attention than usual?' Ron asked when several heads turned around to glance at them and the waitress took their order with extreme promptness.

'It's understandable,' Hermione replied, frowning, 'yet uncomfortable.'

Since the battle, they had barely appeared in public. Besides staying at The Burrow and resting as much as they could, they had helped at Hogwarts and the Ministry, but this was the first time they had appeared alone together, as Ron-and-Hermione.

'Let's try and pretend it's nothing, shall we?'

But thinking of it as a "date" wasn't too easy. They started a conversation about their last meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and the new measures the Ministry planned on applying, although they fully knew they had talked about that a lot already.

'—and I agree with kicking the Dementors out of Azkaban; there are enough enchantments to keep wandless prisoners at bay,' Ron was saying. 'What worries me is where they will go. What if they become the thing we've got to watch out for when we wander into dark alleys?'

'Yes, what's life without walks in scary alleys?' Hermione added, chuckling.

Ron stared at her, a smile lingering on his face, and thought. It had been her, and the fact, the conviction that they were working for a different, fearless world, that had made him come back to Harry's side, the same things that were helping him to move on and forget about the calamities of the war.

Hermione entwined her fingers with his and gave him a questioning look. Ron leaned forward without a word; their lips had barely touched when somebody tapped Ron's shoulder, causing him to separate from Hermione almost brusquely.

'I'm sorry!' It was a small boy, not older than ten years, looking slightly ashamed but eager to talk. 'Are you Ron Weasley?'

'Er... yes?'

The boy was about to speak again, when he caught sight of something and exclaimed excitedly, 'You're a Cannons' fan!'

'And how do you know?' Ron asked. He was growing more and more surprised with every word the visitor said.

'The key ring,' he replied, pointing at the keys fastened on the waist of Ron's trousers, which hung from a bright orange ornament with two big C's.

Ron was suddenly aware of Hermione chuckling almost unnoticeably, and felt even more uncomfortable.

'I'm sorry, how can I help you?'

'Blimey...' The boy turned red. 'I wanted to ask you... if you could, _please_, sign my hat?'

* * *

'I can't believe I just gave my bloody _autograph_ to a kid.'

The look of utter bewilderment in Ron's face hadn't disappeared yet, much to Hermione's amusement.

'Aren't you proud? You just signed a _Chuddley Cannons_ hat!'

'If it had been for something more reasonable, maybe, but what am I supposed to—?'

Hermione cut him off by clearing her throat softly.

Standing before them, there were two girls, holding a piece of parchment each.

'Excuse us, would you mind giving us your autograph as well?' one of them said. They looked like they could still be at Hogwarts, but both looked flirty as they handed the parchments for Ron to sign. Hermione could not do more than stare, mouth hanging open, at this until they seemed to notice her and added, 'Er... you too, if you'd like?'

It was quite noticeable by now that the restaurant had filled considerably since they had arrived, and half the customers were discretely waiting their turn to ask for an autograph.

'We can't stay here,' Ron said, following Hermione's worried look. He stood up and offered her a hand. 'Come on, let's go somewhere else...'

Hermione remained unusually quiet as they walked their way back through Diagon Alley. The people they left at the restaurant looked somewhat disappointed, but nobody followed them.

'Hey.' He squeezed her hand. 'Anything wrong?'

'No. It's just... all those people... It was really strange.'

Ron smirked and threw an arm around her shoulders.

'You aren't jealous of those girls, are you?'

'Of course not!'

'Good.'

'I had my own admirers back there.'

'You—?'

'Ron, weren't you about to do something, before?' Hermione asked, stopping and facing him.

'What?'

'Before that kid interrupted you, I mean.'

'No, I don't think so,' he replied, although this time she saw his lips twitching.

She put a hand behind his neck and led his lips to her; he could not—he would have never—avoid her.

'Now I remember,' Ron said, slightly out of breath. 'Do you know of any Muggle restaurant we can go to?'

* * *

Outside Diagon Alley, Hermione aimed for a fish and chips shop nearby, but Ron insisted they go somewhere else. True, he had no income; his savings, at least until he started working, never increased too much or too often. But he had thought about their first date ever since he knew he could have one with her... in fact, he had fantasized about it for years.

They finally settled for a small restaurant where they could barely find a free table.

'Reckon no one's going to bother us here,' Ron said cheerfully once they sat.

'I daresay.'

Hermione brushed her fingers past Ron's and he caught her hand, trying to pretend that they hadn't just been harassed and that they were in the first place they had chosen.

'You look very... very pretty.'

'Thanks.'

She felt like giggling just seeing Ron's face all flustered, although she knew her cheeks were probably the same colour.

'This, um, this dress is really flattering, actually—'

Ron rolled eyes.

'Hermione, you _must_ know that when one says "You look pretty", or at least when _I_ say it, what I mean is that "you _are_ pretty"!'

'Oh, well... how am I supposed to know?' she replied, blushing even more.

'I thought it was more or less clear.' He smirked, brushing his thumb against her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss. It didn't last long, much to their dismay. For the third time, they were interrupted as they heard some distinct sounds... coming from a camera.

Ron was the first to break apart, accidentally biting Hermione's bottom lip: the night was getting on his nerves already. He knew something was bound to go wrong, but harassing fans had never crossed his mind.

'Oi, what are you doing?'

A fat man, holding an old-fashioned camera, hid between a big potted plant and an occupied table. They had seen him around before, and knew he worked for The Prophet.

Before he could do more than jump off his seat, Hermione held Ron's arm and whispered, scared, 'Careful, Ron, there are Muggles here!'

'Would you like to pose?' the man asked, holding out the camera and taking a step forward.

'No, we bloody wouldn't! This is a private thing, mate, and I'm afraid you weren't invited,' Ron snarled

'That's as well; I was leaving, anyway.' With a wink, the photographer hurried toward the door. As the Muggles having dinner there had been paying attention to the exchange revolving around them, Hermione begged Ron not to take out his wand to chase after the wizard.

'He's still got pictures, Hermione!'

'I know, but he's gone now! We'll try and talk to somebody to stop him from publishing anything, but for now, please...'

He could see that she felt as bad as he did.

'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault, Ron!' She suddenly regretted having shown her disappointment. 'How could we have known that something like _this_ would happen, to _us_?'

'True.' Ron sighed and took her hand again. 'Reckon every place will be full by now. I have an idea.'

* * *

They Apparated into the dark garden of The Burrow.

'No, you wait here,' Ron said when Hermione made an attempt to walk toward the house. 'I'll be back in a minute.'

It took him more than a minute, but he returned carrying a big basket and grinning.

'Hold on, then, I'll lead you.'

* * *

The moonlit woods gave her no hint of where he had taken them or why, so she chose to turn and wait for an explanation.

'Forest of Dean.'

'Forest of... Ron, what—?'

'It looks really nice now, doesn't it?' Ron looked nervously around before facing her. 'Hermione, you may say that I'm mental, but I didn't want our night to be spoiled, and that's when I thought... Well, why not have a picnic, right?'

'Why here?' she whispered.

'Because... Here is where I found you. I was determined to go back to you and Harry, I knew I would hate myself more than I already did if I didn't find you. And when I saw you... blimey, you were ready to kill me on the spot!' Ron smiled, mostly to himself, and continued, 'I was with you again, though. I know maybe this place works the other way round for you and you hate it...'

'No,' Hermione cut him off, quickly wiping her cheek. 'This place means a lot to me too.'

They settled a tablecloth on the ground, along with the food Ron had taken from his house (mainly sandwiches and pies) and a jug of pumpkin juice. However, instead of filling his growling stomach, Ron pulled Hermione down to the ground with him.

'This didn't go as planned at all,' he said as she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. 'Do you mind if we make up for it and then have dinner?'

Her breath came soft and tickling on his lips as she asked, 'Do you hear me complaining?'


End file.
